


safe and warm

by thespacenico



Series: klancemas 2018 [7]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Keith is a hot mess, Lance is oblivious as always, M/M, Pidge is so tired, Ugly Christmas Sweaters, Yet literally everyone else knows, again: keith is a mess, lance is still a sweetheart, shiro is still the space dad, space family picture!!!, this is literally 3k of him having a meltdown
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-07
Updated: 2018-12-07
Packaged: 2019-09-16 19:42:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16960317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thespacenico/pseuds/thespacenico
Summary: klancemas day seven: sweaters





	safe and warm

**Author's Note:**

> i don't really know what happened all i know is that keith is the definition of a chaotic gay 
> 
> (also i used that title because  
> a: sweaters  
> b: reference to the underwater vld episode lol  
> that's it that's all i got)

Keith doesn’t mean to stare.

He doesn’t mean to stare at Lance’s hair that’s started to curl a little at the ends, brushing over his collar and sweeping across his forehead. He doesn’t mean to stare at the light freckles splattered across the bridge of his nose and his cheeks and the very back of his neck. He doesn’t mean to stare at the way his already bright blue eyes light up and his mouth turns up into a crooked grin right before he laughs. He doesn’t mean to stare at the sharp curve of his jaw and slope of his upturned nose, and he doesn’t mean to stare at the exposed strip of tan skin when Lance reaches his arms over his head to stretch.

Well—okay, so maybe he does mean to stare, but—not quite so much that immediately after breakfast, Pidge grabs his arm and hauls him into the nearest empty room. And he knows exactly what this is about because she half-slams the door shut, whirls around, plants her hands on his shoulders, looks him dead in the eyes and says: “You have a problem.”

“I have a problem,” he repeats weakly.

She releases her hold on him and sighs dramatically, pushing her glasses up and pinching the bridge of her nose. “Honestly, Keith. The constant— _staring._ It’s embarrassing.”

Keith—has a problem. He falls back against the door and pushes a hand through his hair. “Oh no.”

“I can’t believe he didn’t notice, you were staring so hard.”

“Oh no,” Keith says again with a groan. He tightens his grip in his hair, and even though the realization really seemed to hit full force yesterday, this is the first time that he’s really, actually acknowledging it. Out loud. “I think—I have a crush on Lance.”

Pidge throws her hands in the air. “You’re just now figuring that out?”

Keith groans again and sinks to the floor. “Oh _no.”_

“Oh my god,” Pidge mutters under her breath.

“Am I really that obvious?”

“Why do you think I brought you in here?”

Keith moans into his hands. “That’s it. I’m doomed.”

Pidge actually snorts at that. “Okay, no need to be quite so dramatic.” She hesitates. “Yet.”

Keith groans again. And then he yelps when Pidge smacks at his arm. “What—hey—”

“Seriously!” Pidge smacks at him again and he jerks away, affronted. “Pull yourself together, Kogane! I’m trying to help you!”

“By hitting me?” Keith scoffs, rubbing his offended arm.

“Look.” Pidge plops down and sits cross-legged in front of him, re-adjusting her glasses as she does so. “I get it, you like Lance. That’s old news to pretty much everyone _but_ you.” Keith opens his mouth to retort, but she goes on before he can get a word in. “But if you keep making goo-goo eyes at him like that all day—”

Keith makes a noise of protest. “I was _not_ making _goo-goo_ eyes—”

“Eventually I won’t be the only one to notice,” Pidge continues pointedly, and Keith winces. “All I’m saying is, you’ve _gotta_ be more subtle, at least for your own sake.”

“How am I supposed to be subtle when Lance is—when he’s always—” Pidge raises an eyebrow at him, unimpressed, as he struggles to form his sentence. “Like— _that,”_ he finishes.

His cheeks burn as Pidge presses her hands together and drops her forehead to her fingertips, closing her eyes. “Pitiful. This is pitiful, Keith.”

“I thought you were supposed to be helping me!” he says defensively.

“It’s hard to help you when you’re being like—” She huffs, dropping her hands into her lap. _“That.”_

“Pidge—”

They both jump at the sound of a knock on the door, which is honestly fine because Keith was just about to say something that would only further Pidge’s point, like, _I can’t help it!_ and then they hear Lance— _of course_ it’s Lance—say: “Uh, hello? Are you guys coming out of there or what?”

Pidge is already standing as Keith scrambles to his feet, shooting her a panicked look. _What do I do?_ he mouths frantically.

She makes a face, whispering loudly. “Just don’t—” She points two fingers at her eyes, at Keith, at the door, and then waves wildly.

Keith throws his hands in the air in question, and then Pidge throws the door open and he’s forced to bring them quickly back down to his sides.

Lance blinks at them from the other side of the doorway and Keith tries not to—panic. “What are you guys doing?”

“Nothing,” Keith blurts, and he can tell that it takes every muscle in Pidge’s two eyeballs not to roll them at his response.

“What is it, Lance?”

Luckily, that’s enough to distract Lance enough that he’s completely oblivious to Keith sitting on the verge of a freaking— _meltdown,_ but unfortunately for him, it’s also enough to make Lance’s eyes light up with excitement and make Keith stare. Again.

“We found a giant box of sweaters!”

At least now Pidge is staring at him too. “... Sweaters,” she repeats slowly.

Lance nods vigorously.

Keith and Pidge both blink at him. “You’re wearing a sweater,” Pidge offers with a questioning tone.

“Oh—” Lance glances down at the blue cashmere sweater he’s wearing (his hair is still kind of messy from sleep), and then he snorts like he’s realizing how vague his previous statement was (his eyes crinkle a little at the corners when he laughs), and then he shakes his head (and why is it that everything he does is _cute—_ ) “Nonono, I mean Hunk and I found a big box of super ugly Christmas sweaters upstairs.”

“My family really likes super ugly Christmas sweaters,” Adam says as he walks by, a cup of coffee in his hand.

“Explains a lot about you,” Keith calls after him.

And because Adam is an adult, he doesn’t dignify Keith’s jest with a response, which Keith wouldn’t have heard anyway because Lance had started laughing and that was enough to capture Keith’s full attention.

It takes Pidge grabbing his arm and tugging him along to snap him out of his trance as they follow Lance into the living room, Hunk coming down the stairs with the enormous said box of Christmas sweaters. Lance hovers excitedly over the coffee table as Hunk sets it down onto the wooden surface with a _thump_. Keith doesn’t realize he’s staring again until Pidge elbows him in the side and he starts a little.

“Come _on,_ Keith,” she mutters.

“Sorry,” Keith mumbles.

Lance immediately digs into the box, oblivious, while the rest of them flop onto the couches on either side. “I bet we can find one to fit everyone’s personalities.”

Hunk leans forward and peeks into the box as Lance rifles through it. “I kind of want mine to have some jingle bells on it. Do you think there are any with jingle bells on it? I think I heard some jingling when I was bringing the box downstairs.”

“Pidge, this one is _perfect_ for you.” Lance grins as he pulls a bright green sweater out of the box.

Pidge sighs. “Lance, just because I flew the Green Lion and the sweater is green doesn’t—” She gasps as Lance turns the front toward her with a dramatic flourish. “Is that a sloth?”

It’s a sloth. A smiling sloth, hanging happily from a strand of garland underneath the word _despacito_ in big black letters.

“Have more faith in me, Pidge,” Lance clicks his tongue as he tosses the sweater at her. “I know everyone’s taste. Watch this.”

And only a few moments later, Lance has a sweater picked out for everyone in the house. He finds one for Shiro almost immediately: a gray sweater with a patterned block inscribed by the words _Feliz Navi-Dad,_ because _he’s like our adopted space dad._ For Adam, a blue sweater that says _Merry Christmas, pothead,_ decorated with snowflakes and pots of coffee. Hunk’s is bright red with a big golden bow in the middle of it— _because he’s a gift,_ Lance had said, and that was enough to make Hunk tear up and squeeze him until Lance has to politely pat his back and tell him he can’t breathe. He finds another blue one for himself (blue, of course it’s blue, of course it has to be the color that makes Lance’s eyes look brighter and his skin nicer and okay, that’s besides the point) that has strings of Christmas lights criss-crossing the front around the words _Let’s Get Lit._

Keith was honestly content just to sit and watch Lance’s reactions to all of the sweaters that he’s been pulling out of the box (Pidge elbows him again and he elects to ignore her this time because Lance isn’t paying attention to him, so really what’s the problem).

Until Lance _is_ looking at him, biting back a smile as he holds up another sweater. “Found yours, Keith.”

Keith has to practically rip his gaze away from him and toward the sweater. He tilts his head and squints. It’s a black sweater, featuring a painfully neon green alien wearing a santa hat underscored by the words _I believe._ He glances back at Lance with a sigh. “Is this because—”

“Yep,” he snorts, looking pleased with himself as he tosses the sweater in Keith’s direction.

“Hilarious,” Keith mutters, staring down at the lump of fabric now lying in his lap.

He looks up again when Lance gasps loudly and digs through the box a little more (Keith swears it’s endless) and pulls out a pastel pink sweater, and even from the side, Keith can see that it reads _Sleigh All Day._

“This one is _perfect_ for Allura,” Lance grins, and the way he says it makes Keith’s heart drop into the pit of his stomach. “I’m gonna go get her.”

It’s impossible for Keith not to watch him go. And probably just as impossible for both Pidge and Hunk not to notice the way he stares as Lance bounds up the stairs and disappears.

He reluctantly returns his gaze to the wadded sweater in his lap and tries his very best to be normal.

Pidge clears her throat.

Hunk gets straight to the point.

“You finally figured it out, didn’t you?”

Keith just groans and slides down in his spot on the couch, shoving the sweater halfway over his head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Pidge just sighs. “I think we’re far past the stage of denial, Keith.”

“I can’t possibly be _that_ obvious,” Keith tries, his voice muffled.

He can practically hear them glancing at each other. “Actually—” Hunk starts.

Keith sits up suddenly with a jolt, ripping the sweater back off his head. “Oh god. Lance doesn’t know, does he?”

Pidge bursts into laughter. “No way, he’s just as oblivious as you are.”

“What’s that supposed to mean—”

“Anyway,” Hunk interrupts. “I think what she’s trying to say is that no one is really surprised.”

“Does—” Keith thinks he’s maybe going to be sick. “Allura.”

He actually watches Pidge and Hunk glance at each other at that. Pidge clears her throat again. “She’s—had her suspicions.”

Keith thinks he’s definitely going to be sick. “I’m gonna be sick,” he says.

“Dude.” Hunk holds his hands placatingly from his place on the couch across from Keith. “You know Lance doesn’t—”

He cuts himself off when Lance’s voice comes floating back down the stairs and he reappears with Allura following close behind, clutching the pink sweater to her chest with a big smile on her face. And Lance starts chatting happily and pointing at all the sweaters he’s selected for the others and the reasons why and it all makes Keith’s heart rate skyrocket for some reason, because honestly, _what is happening—_

He’s not even sure if anyone hears the quick “be right back” that he mutters, but he doesn’t really care because he dumps his sweater onto the couch and stumbles out of the living room and promptly locks himself in the nearest bathroom.

His handheld buzzes instantly.

 

 **pidge:** keith oh my GOD  
YOU CAN’T DO THAT

 

Keith shuts off his handheld.

“Stupid,” he mutters, pressing his back against the door. “Stupid, this is so stupid—”

He takes a huge breath and lets it out, shoving himself away from the door and toward the sink. His heart is still racing, which is _stupid_ because nothing even happened that should make him react like—

 _You’re jealous, stupid,_ his brain says.

“Stupid,” Keith mutters again, and then twists the knob to run the tap. He tries to regain his bearings as he glares at the clear water, streaming steadily into the bowl of the sink and down the drain. Pidge is right; he knows he can’t do that. He can’t just— _panic_ like that. He sticks his hands underneath the tap, cupping them and splashing the water on his face, sighing a little at the cool sensation on his cheeks that have probably been burning like crazy for the past minute or two.

 _Get a grip,_ he thinks. _Stop being so—weird. Stop being weird._

He shuts off the water and dabs at his face with the nearby hand towel, checking his face in the mirror (at least he’s not too red now) before taking another deep breath and letting himself back out of the bathroom.

His stomach turns when Lance is the first to look up at him when he returns to the living room. “Hey man, you okay?”

Everyone’s head turns to look at him and he freezes. “I, uh—fine. I was just—talking to Shiro.”

“You were?”

Keith jumps when Shiro suddenly appears beside him, Adam not far behind. Hunk just sighs quietly and Pidge pinches the bridge of her nose; fortunately for him, Lance is too busy gasping excitedly again and bestowing his sweaters of choice upon both Shiro and Adam to worry about calling him on his bluff. Shiro is laughing about his when Keith sees Allura looking at him out of the corner of his eye, her head tilted slightly, but he pointedly avoids eye contact.

“We should take a picture,” Adam suggests, because of course he would, and then before Keith knows what’s happening, his sweater is being pushed back into his hands and Shiro is herding everyone toward the fireplace while Adam goes to get the camera.

“I forgot how much I dislike taking family pictures,” Pidge grumbles as she pokes her head through the collar of her sweater.

“I _love_ family pictures,” Lance declares, shrugging his own sweater over his T-shirt. (It messes up his hair a little bit and Keith tries not to stare, he really does.) “They always take forever at home, but it’s totally worth it.”

Keith tears his gaze away and starts to pull his sweater over his head and seriously considers just staying there. He feels someone poke him in the side, and then he hears Shiro’s amused voice. “What are you doing?”

“Hiding,” Pidge mutters, and then Keith shoves his head through the collar and his arms through the sleeves but he can’t quite bring himself to elbow her in the side.

Adam returns with the camera and starts setting it up behind the coffee table while Allura positions everyone for the picture. “Shiro and Adam are the tallest, so they’ll be in the back.” She stands back and considers. “You too, Hunk. Pidge and I will be in the front.”

Keith doesn’t process quickly enough before Lance is slinging his arm around his shoulders for what feels like the millionth time this week and it takes everything in him not to tense up at the contact. “Which leaves us,” Lance says proudly, shooting him a lopsided grin that makes Keith’s heart do literal gymnastics. “I guess we get to be the center of attention.”

“Yeah,” Keith says eloquently.

“We’re going to take a few,” Adam calls from behind the coffee table. “It’ll flash a few times, so nobody move. I’d rather do this as quickly and painlessly as possible.”

It’s kind of funny watching Adam dash across the living room after setting the timer on the camera—or at least, it would be, if Keith were watching him at all. Because right now all he’s really thinking about is the warmth of Lance’s arm slung casually around his shoulders that’s actually growing to be familiar, and the way he’s already smiling brightly in the direction of the camera like he’s really, genuinely happy to be taking a picture with the group of people all crowded around them, probably because he _is_ —and Keith finds himself smiling a little, at that.

He’s not quite sure if he manages to turn his head away from Lance before the first flash goes off.

And he’s not quite sure if he cares, either.

**Author's Note:**

> sorry i'm behind! i leave school and fly home tomorrow so i will have lots of time to catch up on writing now! :)
> 
> come say hi on [tumblr](https://www.taxashi.tumblr.com)!  
> 


End file.
